She’d thought that she’d married a simple Scotsman with a penchant for adventure, but looking at him now, she realized she didn’t know him very well at all.
His long hair had been tied at the nape of his neck, pulling it away from his handsome face. Long lashes framed his startling green eyes, and although she knew he’d shaved earlier today, stubble lined his cheeks and jaw, giving him a somewhat dangerous look.
This was not deceptive: He was dangerous. One touch and he made her forget everything, everything she thought she’d wanted. He made her doubt this woman she’d fought very hard to become.
“The fresco is magnificent,” Vanessa said, trying to distract herself, trying to rein in her thoughts.
“Ah yes, that was not original to the abbey,” Randolph said. “But I couldn’t resist. Let us convene in the dining room.”
They all followed his lead. Graeme stepped closer to Fielding, and the two men spoke quietly. Vanessa was certain Graeme had decided to tell Fielding about the men who had died by The Raven’s hands, not to mention the stones he now possessed. The man was getting dangerously close to the Kingmaker.
“You look very pretty tonight,” Esme told Vanessa.
“Thank you,” Vanessa said. “This dress was to be part of my trousseau, the dress my mother had intended I wear when I hosted my first dinner party.”
“Well, it’s lovely,” Esme said. Vanessa wondered what Graeme had told his friends of his sudden nuptials.
They gathered around a large table, hand carved out of mahogany. It sat in the middle of an ornate dining room, accented with another painted ceiling, this one highlighted with gold paint and cherubs. If Vanessa had to guess, she’d wager that painting was also not a replica of an original, but rather for Mr. Randolph’s own enjoyment. Clearly the man loved opulence.
The wall opposite Vanessa’s dinner seat was nearly completely covered by what appeared to be an ancient tapestry. Beautiful and elegant, the woven picture depicted this very building as it had once been, as a family’s keep jutting high out on the hills. Before they left, she definitely wanted to take a closer look.
Graeme watched their host fall all over himself trying to impress Graeme’s mother. And if Graeme wasn’t mistaken, she was flirting in return. He’d never seen his mother happy with any man, as his parents had separated shortly after his birth. The only interaction he’d seen them have was to argue mercilessly.
On his other side, Dougal sat quiet and surly, his young features marked by a constant scowl.
Graeme had been to this abbey nine years earlier, before this man had refurbished it to its former glory. But Graeme knew what lay beneath—a deep chasm and a secret chamber filled with treasures. He couldn’t help but wonder if Randolph had ever discovered the secret lift that led down to it. But he most definitely was not going to ask.
* * *
They all arrived home nearly four hours later. Vanessa and Moira had already excused themselves. Graeme grabbed Dougal to stop him from leaving the room. “What the hell is wrong with you lately?”
Dougal jerked his arm free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but never glanced at Graeme’s face.
“You can’t even look at me. You’re nervous around my wife. You barely look at her, and when you do, you glare. You stay out all the time. You talk back to Mother.”
Dougal glared at his shoes.
Graeme shook his head. “None of this is like you. I know something’s wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Dougal finally met Graeme’s gaze, and for the first time Graeme realized how much his brother physically resembled their father. The same height, although Dougal still had the thin and narrow body of a boy not yet a man, and the same light-brown hair, the same brown eyes. “I’m a man of my own now,” Dougal said. “What I do, it’s no concern of yours.”
Graeme nearly argued, but Dougal was right to an extent. At least, he believed he was right, and Graeme remembered feeling the same way once upon a time. He’d had this argument, or one very similar, with their father. And it hadn’t gone well.
Graeme had two options. He could force the boy to talk and risk losing him forever, or he could allow him to continue down whatever road he’d chosen and more than likely get himself into trouble. Especially if he’d involved himself with The Raven.
“You don’t know that man,” Graeme said slowly. “The kind of danger you could get yourself into with him.”
Dougal’s eyes widened with brief surprise, then narrowed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Perhaps not, but I know what I see. And I know more about the aristocratic world you’re so bloody interested in. Those English men, regardless of what they’ve told you, sure as hell won’t keep any promises they might have made.”
“What do you know of promises?” Dougal tossed back, his eyes burning with anger.
Just then Vanessa came in. “Graeme, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have something most important to discuss with you.”
Graeme turned to his wife. “Can it wait?”
She shook her head. “I think you’ll want to know this straightaway.”